


Pas de Trois -- AU Doctor/Rose ficlets

by kilodalton



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:16:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 3,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kilodalton/pseuds/kilodalton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose on a road-trip - requested by barcelonatheplanet
> 
> * * *

She _hates_ him …

… hates his superiority complex and his bombast and his multiple girlfriends and his overly-gelled hair, hates that he _never_ noticed her at all sitting in the back row all those years when they were in school, mooning over him and doodling his name in her notebook, and hates more than **_anything_** the fact that his smile _still_ makes her heart flip into her knees … but today, their tiny plane has been diverted to an even tinier airport, the wind and rain making it too dangerous for the pilot to fly, and they stand together, side-by-side and almost too close, in the closet that passes for a terminal around here, staring out at the churning clouds in the darkened skies and the plane which they will _certainly_ not be boarding again until the morning … they’re both wet, and _cold_ , doused by the heavy rain during their run here from the tarmac, and she’s shivering, her arms crossed over her thin shirt, so he lends her his coat and she gives him a grateful smile (while he notes that the men around them have the audacity to _glare_ at him, some because he beat them to the offer, others because he’s doubtlessly interrupted their view of her lacy black bra under her wet top).

A little later, as a thank you (and a peace offering, in her own mind), she brings him a cup of coffee in a small paper cup, the water so hot and the paper so thin that it burns his fingers, but he smiles and doesn’t complain … instead, he asks her where she’s headed and he can’t help the wide grin that breaks out on his face when he learns they’re both travelling home for their school reunion … he has a _mad_ idea then, an _impossible_ suggestion that she will _clearly_ say no to, the weather outside is horrible and they barely know one another, but she finds herself nodding, intoxicated by his enthusiasm even after all these years, and they race together to the rental-car kiosk, their fingers having become inexplicably entwined, fitting together as seamlessly as their matching, hopeful grins (and her grin especially is hopeful for something so silly and ridiculous that she won’t even name it in her own head).

It’s a long drive, through night and into the next day on roads cloaked by windy gusts of rain, and between the constant thrumming of the windshield wipers they learn more about each other than they ever did when they were at school … she learns about his passion for astronomy, and his struggles with his doctorate, and how he almost didn’t want to come home because there’s no family anymore to come home **_to_** (and despite all her attempts to the contrary, she squeezes his hand, she couldn’t not-care about him if she tried) … and he learns about her father, and her years-long struggle of climbing out of poverty and into a _good_ job (and he tells her he is proud of her and somehow she knows he _means_ it) … it feels _different_ , this time, _he_ feels different than he did before, and it brings a smile to her face …. but days later, at the obligatory dance (after all, what would a reunion be without _that_ torture?), she watches from afar as he’s the center of attention once again as soon as he enters the room, just like when they were at school, embraced by a veritable multitude of blondes, and she turns her eyes away to find the coat-check, not noticing his attempts to catch her gaze and to break away from the throng to catch up with her before she can make her way to the exit.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Sequel to AU!Ten/Rose on a road-trip - requested by whoinwhoville
> 
> * * *

It’s years before he’s able to find it funny (not that it’s ever _truly_ amusing to him, at least not in the way it’s always apparently been _outrageously_ so to Jackie, if the way she insists on bringing it up every-single-time she invites them over for tea is anything to go by), how he finally broke free of the crowd and ran after her into the parking lot, not finding her _anywhere_ inside, not half knowing why he was running after her at all … he’s not even sure why she left so quickly (although it was so soon after he arrived, he can’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong, if it had something to do with _him_ …)

He spots her quickly in the parking lot, his voice catching in his throat and his lungs forcing out a quick exhale of relief as he instinctively bounds towards her as quickly as he can … and she turns around, almost alarmed, at the sound of his racing footfall, before her face relaxes when she sees it’s only him … but her eyes grow wide and questioning as a moment later he arrives at her side, chest ragged with gasping breaths, and he clumsily reaches out one (quite unfortunately sweaty) hand to take her own.

“Didn’t … dance …” he finally gets out after a moment, squeezing her hand once before almost collapsing, leaning forwards with both palms against his knees for support, trying to catch his breath … and despite her resigned mood of only minutes before, she can’t suppress a giggle, commenting that he hardly looks in any sort of shape to do any _dancing_ at all … but he raises an eyebrow at her that stops her laugh in its tracks … he doesn’t ask why she left, and she doesn’t ask why he came after her — instead, each of them stares at the other for several long moments before she comes to a decision and tentatively, trustingly reaches one hand out to him, which he takes securely and gently in his own, leading her back into the party for a dance (which turns into two, then three, then four, then five … then _all_ of them).

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Nine/Rose as garden gnomes - requested by anonymous
> 
> * * *

It’s _his_ garden – _his_ trees and rhododendrons and daisies and freshly-mowed grass, and he’s not too keen on sharing his domain with this … this … _interloper_ : he was a wedding present to the owner’s great-grandmother, after all – he’s been around the block, and this is _his_ block, and should _not_ be shared with some silly, kewpie-doll-faced newcomer holding a gaudy basket of ceramic roses (and she even has her _price tag_ still attached, mind you!!!! … bloody _fantastic!_ )

She’s placed across the garden from him, a respectable distance away, and as fall turns into a cold, cold winter, the family stays indoors, and it’s just _them_ … him with his stoic little toolbox, and her with her basket of roses, which insistently peek up from the snow after each snowfall, unwilling to let their brightness be tamed – he has to eventually admit a grudging respect for that.

When spring comes again, the family is once again outdoors, and the little boy kicks his football _straight_ into her, and as she topples over on the concrete, he is suddenly scared to _death_ and wishes that he were somehow able to reach out to her, to help her … to protect her – so when she’s set right-side up again, he’s relieved to find not only that she’s unchipped, but that the owner is now putting her right by his side, so close that their tiny ceramic hands clink together in solidarity … better with two, after all.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU!Ten/Rose working in a real doctor's office - for claravoyant
> 
> * * *

It’s her first day (first job since getting her degree, in fact) as a Licensed Practical Nurse, and she comes into Dr. Smith’s pediatrics medical office with a huge smile, and brand new Dora The Explorer scrubs her mother had bought her as a graduation gift.

Her smile becomes a little smaller, but loses none of its luster, as Renee makes a catty comment about her scrubs being far too cartoonish for such a prestigious practice, or when his partner Harry _~accidentally~_ smacks her on the ass, or when Nurse Redfern chastizes her for daring to touch HER blood pressure cuff.

It’s when he sees her gently coaxing a small, feverish girl with strep throat to open her mouth for a swab, so empathetic and kind, that he’s hooked, and feels deep, deep down as his stomach flips at her smile, that she’s something special, to both the office … and maybe to him, as well.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU!Ten/Rose as teachers - for kaynibbler16
> 
> * * *

He thought he’d never see her again, the same way he’s never seen most of his doctoral students again, at least not the best ones, who give him a quick goodbye and a thank-you note and move on to brilliant careers at better institutions than his own … he’s used to it by now, and he likes to think he could take a little credit for it … and he knew she wouldn’t be any different — knew it from the first time he met her, with her beautiful brown eyes and the smile in her voice when she’d shaken his hand, all _“pleased to meet you Doctor Smith,”_ like hundreds of students before her, and knew it especially because of her uncertainty about what she even wanted her dissertation to be on because she was open to so many marvelous, fascinating possibilities that captured his imagination almost as much as they’d captured hers … he knew she’d soar someday, that she’d fly … and like everyone else, she would fly far, far away from him — and he’s right of course … she _does_.

And he normally skips the new-hire faculty luncheon, but he sees her name on the list, and it’s been _two_ years, so he _runs_ — this is mad and impossible, and he’s so determined to not be late that he inadvertently shows up early … and he’s the only one there, standing awkwardly in an empty room full of still-covered food trays when finally a second person shows up early too … and it’s _her_ … he’s never hugged a student before, but she’s not a student anymore, and she falls into his embrace as naturally as the sigh that falls from his lips, as naturally as her eyes fall closed as they greet each other.

“Do you still want me to call you ‘Doctor’?’ she asks, taking a hesitant step back, and it’s more of a question in her eyes than in her voice, as if there’s something she’s trying to ask without saying it … and there’s a hitch in his voice when he looks away, shrugging and telling her she can, _if she wants_ — she certainly doesn’t _need_ to, they’re colleagues now, they’re equals now, they’re … she laughs then, and grabs his hand, then grabs a plate for each of them ( _“Here you go, Doctor,”_ she says with a wink), and he asks her if she ever completed all those other research projects — she shakes her head _no_ , so he asks if she’d like some help — she nods her head _yes_ , and they smile at each other, hands still intertwined.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose as artists - requested by childrenwithtreebranchswords
> 
> * * *

They call her the pink-and-yellow painter - to most people, she is known for her breezy, summerlike depictions of smiling families and playful children, and her fresh and carefree use of pastels, refreshing and ephemerally pleasing like mindless sips of lemonade on a hot summer day.

It’s tripe, most think, and far too girlish, so there aren’t many who attend her exhibitions in the same way they wouldn’t bother to attend an art exhibition of Hallmark cards, and they certainly don’t keenly examine her canvases the way he does, noting her use of the heavy, thick oil paints instead of the lighter watercolors normally befitting such works, her brushes instead dipped so thickly with the viscous lacquers and pressed so hard against the surface of her canvas that he can see where each bristle has carved its own tiny, jagged gulley in the cheerfully-colored pictures, the edges of each crevice so sharp he muses he could cut himself and risk marring her pink-and-yellow portraits with a streak of blood.

“What do you think?” a voice asks him airily (and he knows it’s her, has to be, there’s hardly anyone else here after all), as he’s standing so close to her portrait that he’s almost nose-to-nose with the subject of her painting, a smiling ginger-headed man holding a preschool-age girl in his arms and they both look so happy and loving and contented and yet … “It’s sad,” is all he can get out, quickly and softly, turning to meet her gaze with a solemn one of his own … she smiles a small, wry smile before it falls from her face, knowing he understands, knowing the only way he could understand it so fully is if he’d lost someone himself, and they stand side-by-side, each gazing wistfully at the tableau, together, yet alone.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose as authors, requested by solthree
> 
> * * *

He didn’t exactly mean to tell the talk show host that he thinks the way Miss Tyler writes her novels is overly “domestic” — he truly likes her style, the accessibility of it, the easy turn of phrase that puts the reader right in the middle of the action, minds and hearts of the protagonists — but people like to think of him as rude, and the talk-show host never let him explain himself before they cut to commercial and he’s shooed off the set like a wayward stray pet bound for a gloomy kennel as punishment.

When he attends her book release party several weeks later, he’s oddly afraid she’s going to ask him to leave — her own interview on the same show several days later had showed her to be clearly unsettled, almost hurt, that a famous author like himself didn’t seem to like her work … but instead, she strides up to him, introduces herself, and when he apologizes profusely for his pretentious, rude comments, she laughs and says “pretentious — I kinda like that!”

He smiles, and she smiles back, and soon their conversation goes from discussing character arcs and literary influences, to where they grew up, to their shared views of that odious new head writer who’s taken over their favorite TV show, and ends in an exchange of phone numbers … and later that year, right after their wedding, they jointly pitch a book idea to their literary agents: “The Pretentious Domestic: A Novel.”

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose in pre-revolutionary French court life, requested by claravoyant
> 
> * * *

She’s not even a proper _bonne_ , just a simple scullery girl, just there to sweep up _les cendres_ from the elegant fireplace the king’s _fille de joie_ insists on keeping burning every night, including unspeakably hot summer nights like this one, when an ember spits out from the fire and cuts across her hand like a burning glass shard.

He’s a courtier, an important man here on important business, and by rights he shouldn’t be made to bother with the likes of her, but her yelp of pain is quickly swallowed by her quiet sobs, and he goes to her, holding her hand in his own and wrapping it in his most elegant _mouchoir_.

They get stares and whispers as he leads her down the spectacular hallways (the real ones, not the servants’ halls) in search of a basin of water for her hand, and something inside him fires into life in protest - who are they to judge? - so he takes her good hand in his own and gives her a smile … she smiles back up at him and it’s really all the thanks he needs.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose as scientists - requested by childrenwithtreebranchswords
> 
> * * *

He’s worked for _ten years_ on a radio-contrast-media antibody tagging chemical to track and kill cancer cells when he hears that it is done, patented, and going into production and phase I clinical trials next week - not by him, mind you - no, _his_ lab is still working on it, the technology promising, but unperfected.

Face pale, brow furrowed, he turns on the TV to watch an interview with the chief scientist of his apparent rival research team - she’s blonde, impossibly young, and speaks succinctly of the simple solution to the problem that’s been _literally_ plaguing his lab with such matter-of-fact candor that he has to look away: he’s impressed, and glad people will be helped, but all those years of work are wasted now, and he swallows it down.

He meets her soon thereafter at a convention - she greets him with a bright smile he wasn’t expecting, and when he asks her about contrast media stabilization (the one thing he seems to have managed to do right in the project), her smile falters, she hasn’t perfected it yet - his smile grows bigger, and soon hers does too as they formulate a plan to work together on it - the chance for success would _definitely_ be better with two.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Nine/Rose as wildlife biologists - for bonsaisue
> 
> * * *

They’ve never worked together before, but the United Nations sends them to the Mojave Desert together to survey the impact on local wildlife habitats after the earthquake — _THE_ earthquake, the _big_ one — and although he loves his job, a small part of him wonders why he’s still devoting so much time to making sure that lizards and bugs are surviving when there are so many dead and dying people in what remains of the nearby cities and towns … it feels like a waste, and he’s lost so much in his life that it feels like a crime to waste any more.

He doesn’t say much to her, he’s too solemn to answer her questions or engage in her banter … but when she spills her canteen of water he gives her his own to drink from, and when a Western Diamond Rattlesnake decides to invade his tent their first night out, she is more than willing to let him share hers, and they silently lay side by side, neither one of them sleeping, as they listen to the quiet, invisible bustle of the persistent life in the dark, cold desert.

She’s up before him early the next morning, and as he steps out of the tent he sees her standing on a nearby ridge, looking out over the valley as a blue-golden-pink-red sunrise rises up gloriously like a phoenix on the barren horizon, casting its glowing tendrils of lazy light on the Joshua trees and creosote bushes, and reflecting off her hair like a golden fire … “s’beautiful, it’s so _alive_ ,” she murmurs, and it’s all he can do to keep from taking her hand, taking a step forward into the contented halo of amber light surrounding her, because more than _anything_ else he wants to feel that way too.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU three-sentence ficlets, Ten/Rose and Nine/Rose, from Tumblr prompts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... AU!Ten/Rose in Edwardian England - for claravoyant
> 
> * * *

Her uncle is a shipbuilder in Liverpool, and in this new century, these heady times of suffragettes and the RMS Olympic and the Wright Brothers, she dreams of travel and takes a job as a clerk in her uncle’s office, saving her small salary and papering the walls of her rented rooms with pictures of New York City.

John Smith is a journalist, and he’d often frequent the office looking for a scoop on the newest, super-secret ship of her uncle’s company, a ship that is rumored to surpass the RMS Olympic - Rose is kind, and _beautiful_ , and offers to take _him_ out to lunch despite her pittance of a salary (an impropriety which would surely shock some, but just makes him like her all the more).

"It’s unsinkable - and I’ll get to be one of the first passengers," she says, laughing and throwing her head back in excitement - he’s excited for her, and _jealous_ of her – and secretly hopes he can save up enough money to ask to court her properly when she returns.

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=51821>


End file.
